read more posts by

Amy

White Christmas 2020

It is human nature to complain. I know this. But I have never seen the like of gripe-filled posts about this snow. And the majority are horse owners. I’m not sure if I see more from them because I’m friends with more horse owners than cattle owners (I think it’s a pretty even split), or if it’s because horse people are more vocal about things. But it confuses me. We live in the hills of Tennessee. Snow is a given. We never know how much, or how long it will last, but we know cold weather is coming for a good three months of the year. If you don’t like it, or are ill-prepared to deal with it, may I suggest moving to town? Or moving further south? Or simply just not having horses? Horses are a luxury afforded to few. They serve no purpose beyond making you happy. And if you’re this miserable taking care of them in the short winter we have, maybe you shouldn’t have them. I don’t have horses anymore and that’s about 50% of the reason. The other half is cost. Horses are outrageously expensive if you keep them in the manner in which you should. I liked the snow just fine. Thankfully, my heat stayed on or I would have been in a bit of a pickle, as all my firewood is wet and…

Chester’s Fairytale

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away at all, lived a little tank of a blue brindle bulldog, who was very, very loved. In a land pretty far away, as far as dog travel is concerned anyway, roamed another dog, who was not loved at all, by anyone. Now this story has equally sad and delightful parts, so consider yourself warned if you read on. But, I will tell you: like all fairy tales, you get a happy ending. And so the summer went by, hot and sticky. The brindle bulldog was very, very sick but the Princess was taking very good care of him during this time. She would feed him half her meals and they would go through drive thrus and get him his very own roast beef sandwich and cups full of ice cream or whipped cream, depending on where they were. The brindle bulldog was very happy, but getting weaker day by day. He loved to go on trips and would lay peacefully in the backseat until they got to their destination. One time they were in the car for a very long time and every time they stopped and got out it was further from home and there were all new smells and sights. Even the trees looked different. And then…after traveling all day, they reached the ocean. And it was the best thing the little tank of a blue brindle bulldog had ever seen. He was beside himself…

Not My Forte

There is so much I don’t know. And there is so much to be thankful for that doesn’t even enter my mind. I haven’t done the 30 days of thankfulness in several years but I think I’ll do one giant blog post soon to catch up.Once upon a time, I was scrolling Pinterest and saw these adorable curtains made from antique handkerchiefs. I have a friend that makes them from bandanas, but I don’t really have a Western theme at my house. I don’t think I have a theme at all, come to think of it. It’s just uniquely Amy.Which translates to haphazard pieces I find and buy.Anyway, I had a few hankies I’ve collected over the years and I thought, “hmm…I could do that, easy peasy!”Pffffft.First of all, I didn’t have nearly enough. Ebay to the rescue! And I even found some ready to be hung. “A simple whip stitch runs through the corner” the description said. I liked the simple bit, and I figured I could do it to my already acquired ones.Well.The lot I bought came with ten, and for it to look like anything I needed about three dozen to create my vision.So that’s how the hankie curtain made its way to my office. And I never got around to “running a…

Chester’s Chronicle Week Two

Day 8: I fell off the couch this morning. It was an embarrassment and a surprise. But no matter what happens, it won’t be as bad as The Soaking yesterday. Princess Sparkleshoes says life is full of ups and downs and I’ll do good to remember that. She’s just mad because hairs keep mysteriously showing up in the tub and she’s cleaned it twice already. I told her if she hadn’t stressed me out I wouldn’t have shed so much. She said I should have cooperated better. I started to tell her something else but then I heard a little bee tell me to never argue with a redhead, especially the one who feeds you and allows you to ride in the rocket. So I yawned and licked her hand. Chester’s Diary, Day 8 and a half Popcorn is an acquired taste. I haven’t acquired that taste. It’s not natural. I would rather just play with them but Princess Glitter Pants gags when she has to pick the slimy bits up off the carpet. I do think the chickens next door would fit my discriminating palate. And I promise not to leave any slimy bits anywhere. #scoutshonor Chester’s Diary, Day 9Whoever this Lightning Bug character is, he must have really been something special. Princess Glitterpants still cries over him sometimes.She also says I could have learned a lot from…

A Week In the Life

I guess if I’m gonna tell this, I need to pick up with where I left off. So I got all Chester’s (at that time still Andre the Giant’s) paperwork signed and paid his bail, and we busted out of that joint, everybody all smiles but none bigger than Chester’s. I decided to take the interstate home because those curvy roads might make him sick. He was pretty excited and paced some, looking at all the things that he’d never seen before. He acted like it was the most natural thing in the world to be riding 75 mph with someone he’d never before laid eyes on. I guess that’s a good thing. Ever so often he’d stick his head through the gap between my headrest and window and lay his muzzle on my shoulder. It was the sweetest thing. And if he could catch my elbow far enough back on the armrest, he’d put his head on top of it. He eventually circled and curled up to sleep. Bless his little bones. If I had been him, I wouldn’t have been nearly so accepting of this fate. I guess he knew my intentions and that everything was going to be okay. I kept thinking about what the director told me: picked up as a stray in June, and had been at the shelter ever since.Once he settled down…

The Journey

I can’t tell you about LB dying, not yet. Let’s just say it effectively broke my heart. I didn’t realize how much I depended on him for companionship and entertainment. And pure, uncomplicated love. Ok, that little bit already has me crying so let’s move on. After a few weeks of people gently (and not so gently) pushing me to get another dog, I started half-heartedly searching. Because the fact of the matter was, I was miserable. And I hate to throw away leftovers. It was either going to be a dog or a pig. And places aren’t as friendly about letting a pig in as they are a dog. I looked on Young Williams page. They’re not far, and they’re well-known for having dogs that are staring hard at the end of the line. I wanted a male pit bull, anywhere from 2-5. He had to be house trained. I didn’t care if he got along with kids or other pets, because I don’t share my space with anybody. He could be an unlucky dog, fixing to change his luck. I really wanted to just walk up to the counter of a shelter and say, “Hi. I’m the answer to your prayers.” But that would be arrogant, so I tried to be cool when I messaged about one of their dogs, a pit mix…

Starved to Death Among the Masses

Today was the Waynesville Apple Festival. I have attended this particular event before and found it wonderful. My good friend Tammy Lynn Huffstutler introduced me a couple of years ago. We made the trek again today. In preparation for the festival, I stayed the night at their very homey hilltop home in Greene County. Tammy Lynn so graciously offered to fix us breakfast, but remembering festivals from days of yore, there were lots of decadent food truck options offering many savory, dripping in fat, smoked and fried delicacies. This is in addition to the many restaurants and cafes lining the Main Street of downtown Waynesville. So upon the offer of breakfast, I politely declined, gently reminding my dear friend of all the gastric options that would be available to us in short order. But she mentioned she thought she could eat an egg, so we opted for an egg apiece on tiny toast. And off we went.We got pretty excited to find parking at the bottom of the hill for $5. Until we walked to the TOP of the hill and found parking for $5. #windedSo we figured out the “system” and joined the masked masses clumped up and traveling down Main Street. We were among the minority of unmasked, and dogless. Or catless. We saw a tabby cat on a leash wearing a Halloween tutu-type collar, being carried around the neck, much as one would wear a fur stole. I did try to get a…

Not A Happy Ending

It’s time to tell the terrible awful thing I did. Or, at least, the last terrible awful thing I did. I’m a seashell collector. I always have been. I try to be selective on what I keep, because I’m limited on space after all these years. I put them in apothecary jars with sand and they are displayed in my bedroom and my library. I think they’re beautiful and it makes me smile when I look at them, remembering each trip. The photo at the top shows a mushroom that washed up. I also found cauliflower and broccoli that morning in St. Augustine. I got kind of excited about the mushroom, I thought it was really something unique. I also have a knack for grabbing up shells with wild things still in them. This last trip was no different. I think I found most of Outer Banks population of hermit crabs. I check my shells thoroughly because I don’t want to kill any creatures just so I can have a pretty shell to display, but also, I don’t want to smell rotting varmint for two weeks as it dries out. It does get depressing, though, finding all these perfect shells only to have to toss them back. So anyway, I had collected a few one day and had the majority of them spread on the porch railing to dissipate the ocean smell. I had brought a few into…

Still Snortin’ Mad

It was a Tuesday. I stood at the counter, the old counter, the one I called “The Fishbowl”. I’m sure I was already thinking about lunch. I know it wasn’t busy, because Co-op isn’t busy on early Tuesday mornings in September.Judy was waiting on a man in a white button up shirt who said offhandedly, “Y’all been watching the news?”Yeah dude, clearly.This is 2001. We barely had internet, and even then not on our Point-of-Sale computers. We got our weather from the 7:00 am, noon, and six o’clock news… and also an ancient tiny dot matrix style computer at the back of the store that had only radar, stockyard reports, and grain futures options. There was no Facebook to scroll mindlessly for hours on end. There were no FOX, CNN, NBC, CBS, or MSN apps at our fingertips. We were working, we weren’t sipping coffee over newspapers with the morning shows on in the background.He went on to say, “A plane crashed into the twin towers in New York City.”That gave us pause. No good could come of this. A few of us walked over to catch coverage on the little tv in the tire shop waiting area. Sure enough, there it was. It was horrific, but stranger things had happened. Planes crash all the time. Tragic, for certain, right there in America…

Protected: If I Had Listened

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below: Password…